


We're Pirates Now

by propheticfire



Series: The Golden Age [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Pirate!AU, Worldbuilding, exposition abounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/pseuds/propheticfire
Summary: Pirate Captain Rex takes his ship into port for some rest and repairs, offering him time to reflect. But nothing goes according to plan when your senior officers are on shore leave.





	We're Pirates Now

**Author's Note:**

> For all intents and purposes, this is the first work in the series. There's a lot of subtle worldbuilding, at least with regard to Rex's crew. This is a good place to start.

Rex paced the deck anxiously. Tatooine was a safe port for pirates, safe enough that he didn’t have to worry about watchdogs from the Navy of the Republic breathing down his neck. But he was a sailor, and like all sailors, spending too much time tied to the dock made his legs restless. After a week-long respite from attacking Separatist frigates, Rex was itching to be back on the open sea.

The sea was in his blood. It was in the blood of all Mandalorians. Theirs was a nation of islands, with a rich history of maritime mastery. Those who did not go to sea themselves still felt its pull. Rex had learned to swim before he learned to walk, and by ten years old he was piloting his own skiff across the channel to visit his cousins on the neighboring island of Tracyn. He preferred the cool ocean spray and the gentle roll of the waves to the stifling stillness of being on land. Even mooring to the dock was too close to being landlocked for Rex to feel comfortable. He suspected some of his crewmates––Mandalorians all––felt the same.

Echo certainly did. Rex glanced toward the table set up next to the wheel of the _Resolute_ , where Echo had charts and notes and navigation tools spread out. Echo leaned over the table, muttering to himself as he marked positions on one of the charts and compared them to his notes. A better navigation master Rex had yet to see. Even among Mandalorians, Echo’s meticulous attention to detail and ability to read coastal conditions and weather patterns was impressive. Especially here in the Outer Rim colonies, where so much was still uncharted, Rex was glad to have Echo on his crew.

Rex cast his gaze further down the deck. At the bow, Dogma moved amid piles of planking, shifting and organizing. He selected a plank and, tucking it under his arm, swung over the side of the ship. A moment later the sound of hammering cut the air. Dogma’s cousin Tup sat next to the piles of planks, a smaller piece of wood in his hand. He sanded the edges carefully, stopping now and then to measure the piece against an empty space in a large barrel. It wasn’t unusual for family members to go into the same trade, but to have stuck together during the war was not so common, and Rex again counted his blessings that this carpenter and cooper were part of his crew.

Echo had also managed to stick with his family. His brother Fives was part of Rex’s crew, and it was on him that Rex waited. As the ship’s bosun, Fives had insisted that he be the one to go ashore to pick out replacement parts for the damaged rigging on the _Resolute_. Unlike Echo, however, Rex suspected that what Fives really wanted was a chance to go into town and blow off some steam at 79’s. The pub had become a haven for Mandalorian sailors in the Outer Rim, especially for those who––like Rex and his crew––were disillusioned with the war which Chancellor Palpatine was waging, and who had chosen to leave the Navy of the Republic. At 79’s, no one asked questions about your loyalty or doubted your courage. Everyone there knew the war was going to _osik._ It was the one place sailors could exchange news about the war or seek information about family members still serving in the NoR. And, in true Mandalorian fashion, it served up a hefty dose of rowdiness and revelry.

Hardcase had gone with Fives, to pick up some new ordnance for the _Resolute_ ’s guns, and the two were supposed to have been back by midday. When that hour had come and passed, Rex had sent Denal ashore to find them. Denal was a good quartermaster: fair, levelheaded, firm but kind. Rex had always thought he’d make a good captain himself, and told Denal as much, but Denal would always shake his head and say that was one step further than he was willing to take. Rex marveled at his luck in having such a trustworthy and committed second.

Now, though, with the hours lengthening into late afternoon, Rex had half a mind to leave all three of them behind and head back out to sea. He continued pacing. He had never had a problem keeping his head; even under the pressure of battle he could think clearly and act decisively. And when it was quiet, he had enough thoughts to occupy him. But this sitting in one place, this damned frustrating _nothingness_ of being docked in the harbor, was grating on his limbs. He needed movement.

“Sir, you’re wearing a rut in the deck,” said a chuckling voice behind Rex. Rex stopped and turned. Jesse stood on the stairs, half out of the belowdecks hatch, a bemused smile on his face. He held out a piece of nerf jerky. Rex sighed and strode toward him, taking the jerky.

“Thank you,” Rex said.

“No problem sir,” Jesse replied, coming up onto the deck to stand beside Rex. “I know how much you hate being tied to the dock. Besides,” he nodded toward the bow, where Dogma was gathering up his carpentry tools, “I think Dogma would appreciate not having to put more work into this ship.”

Rex’s brow furrowed at the comment, but the small quirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “Sometimes I think that’s the _only_ thing Dogma wants to do,” he said. “But he’s a good kid.”

“Eats my cooking,” Jesse said. “That’s all I can ask for.”

Rex took a bite of the nerf jerky and chewed, gazing down the docks. There were quite a few ships moored in Tatooine this time. Though none stood out quite like the _Resolute_. It was hard to disguise a Republic warship, even with a new paint job and a different flag flying from the mast. Rex had designed it himself: white _jaig_ eyes on a dark blue background, the smaller lines of the eyes rendered as stylized cutlasses. Though it usually fell to Mandalorian clan leaders to bestow _jaig_ eyes to those who showed courage as warriors, Rex thought he was well within his rights to claim the symbol for his men. It was no small feat to stand up to an entire government and say, _We see through your lies and we’re done with you_ , and then steal their ship. They had earned the eyes, for sure.

A commotion at the end of the pier drew his attention. “Move!” a voice shouted. Rex looked closer. It was Fives, shoving someone out of his path with one arm, while the other arm held Hardcase up underneath his shoulder. Hardcase gripped Fives for support, favoring a leg as he limped along the dock at a rapid pace. Behind them, Denal struggled with a large wooden crate. The three came racing down the dock as fast as they could.

Jesse moved back toward the hatch and yelled down. “Kix! Kix, you better get up here!” A moment later, Kix scrambled up onto the deck, a small medbag in his hand. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jesse replied, “but it looks like trouble.”

Fives and Hardcase reached the ship and scrambled up the gangplank, Denal not far behind. Fives met Rex’s eyes. “We have to go,” he said. “We have to go now.”

Rex took a breath, the thrill of action suddenly coursing through him. He ran to the hatch and flew down the stairs. “All hands on deck!” he bellowed. “All hands on deck! We’re shoving off!” There was a cacophony of shouting as members of the crew picked up Rex’s order and relayed it. Rex bounded back up the stairs and looked toward the wheel. Echo was already securing his charts and instruments. “Oh the wheel, Echo!” Rex commanded. Echo nodded and took his position at the helm.

“Do we have a heading, sir?” Echo asked.

“Out of port,” was all Rex had to offer.

Crew members of the _Resolute_ began pouring onto the deck, which became a seething mass of organized chaos as the men moved to their standard positions. Rex took a moment to check in with his officers. Fives had set Hardcase down on the deck, leaning him back against the side of the ship. Kix had already cut away Hardcase’s pantleg, and was wrapping his thigh in bandages. “You _di’kut!_ ” Kix hissed at him. “This could have hit an artery!”

Hardcase grinned. “But I walked away with the prize.”

“There’s a story here, isn’t there?” Rex asked.

Fives nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll tell you later.”

Rex turned his attention back to his crew. “Weigh anchor!” he shouted. “Cast off those mooring lines and bring up the gangplank! Hoist some canvas! We’re getting under way, and we’re gonna be snappy about it!” The crew moved in well-trained synchronicity. In minutes, the _Resolute_ was drifting away from the dock, carefully being pointed toward the harbor mouth by Echo.

Rex went to the gangplank and helped haul it completely aboard. As he reached out to take the last length of board, a gunshot rang over his head. Rex ducked behind the side of the ship, then cautiously peered over the gunwale. A large group of angry Trandoshan men had reached the dock and were running toward the _Resolute_ , cursing loudly, their traditional lizard skin coats all but covered in weapons and trophies. One of the Trandoshans raised his pistol again and took a shot. Rex heard it ping off of the mast. He caught sight of a crew member up in the rigging aiming his own pistol back at the Trandoshans.

“Do not fire!” Rex called to his men. “Repeat: do not return fire! Stand down! Echo get us out of here!”

“Yes Captain!” Echo responded, and the ship swung even further out into the harbor.

“ _Fierfek_ , I don’t want to start a damned firefight in Tatooine,” Rex muttered. He risked another look over the gunwale. Echo had put considerable distance between the _Resolute_ and the dock, and the Trandoshans were now just an indistinguishable mob at the end of the pier. Rex took a breath. “Keep it steady, men,” he called out as he stood up. “Stay at your stations. We’ll open her up to full canvas once we’re out of the harbor.”

“Aye aye, sir!” came a chorus of replies.

Rex marched back over to where Hardcase sat on the deck. “Is he going to live?” he asked Kix, though he already knew the answer.

“He’ll live,” Kix said. “Took a pistol shot to the leg, but it only grazed the flesh.”

Rex looked to Hardcase, then to Fives. “Story time, then. You were late reporting back to the ship, and then when you do arrive you’re being chased by a mob of pissed off Trandos, you made us scramble our _shebse_ to get out of here, and Hardcase was shot. What in the hell happened?”

Fives opened his mouth to speak, but Denal suddenly stepped into the group. “It was this, sir.” He held out a hefty-looking blunderbuss, its muzzle nearly a meter long.

“A gun?” Rex raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Really, Hardcase?”

“I went to town for ordnance, I got ordnance,” Hardcase said. “And it’s pretty.”

“Sir,” Denal began again, “we were loading up on shot for the pistols––” he indicated the wooden crate he had been carrying, “––when Hardcase saw this. He was about to purchase it when a Trandoshan confronted us and said ‘That’s mine. I saw it first.’ Hardcase wouldn’t accept that answer, so he challenged the Trandoshan to a duel.”

Rex sighed loudly.

“Hey, I thought it was fair,” Hardcase said. “If he won, he’d get to buy the gun. If I won, I would. And I clearly won.”

“Yes but you very nearly didn’t,” Denal said.

“He wasn’t even close. Leg, heart,” Hardcase said, pointing to his leg and then his chest. “Big difference there.”

“Anyway sir,” Denal said, “Hardcase shot the Trandoshan. And purchased the blunderbuss. And _then_ realized that if there is one Trandoshan, there are probably more, and they would want revenge for their buddy’s death. So we returned to the ship.”

“And not a moment too soon, right?” Fives chimed in. “Thanks for waiting for us.”

Rex shook his head. He tried to keep the stern look on his face, but his mouth had other ideas, and it twitched into a smile. A chuckle escaped him. He looked from Hardcase to Fives, to Denal, to the enormous blunderbuss in Denal’s hand. “That is…an impressive piece of hardware,” he finally conceded. Hardcase let out a relieved sigh. Rex’s smile widened. “Take it below, and get that shot stored away, and Kix, make sure Hardcase stays off his leg until it’s healed.” He looked at Hardcase. “We may be pirates now, but we’re not swaggering idiots. You take care of yourself.”

“Yes sir,” Hardcase said. Kix nodded in agreement and helped Hardcase to his feet. Fives took the crate of shot and followed them belowdecks, with Denal and the blunderbuss bringing up the rear.

The _Resolute_ was clear of the harbor mouth now, and the crew were already rigging the sails for full canvas. Rex made his way back to the wheel. Echo gave him a questioning look. Rex shook his head. “I’m sure Fives will tell you all about it.”

Echo nodded. After a pause, he looked at Rex again. “Heading, Captain?”

Rex looked out over the bow of the _Resolute_. Ahead, the horizon stretched away to infinity, a blue, unbroken shimmer. Dogma and Tup sat at the bow, both working on the barrel now. Somewhere in the rigging above, a crew member had started up a chorus of the traditional Mandalorian shanty, _Vode An,_ and soon the air was filled with the strong chant of dozens of voices. The breaking of waves against the hull of the ship underscored the music with a bright _slsssh._ The warm salt breeze caressed Rex’s face. This was where he belonged. Where they all belonged. The sky and the sun and the ship and the sea. This was freedom.

Rex pointed to the line where the sea and sky met. “There.”


End file.
